


Forgiveness is a Slow Process

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Bulimia, Canon Era, Character Death, Dead Philip Hamilton, Depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, F/M, Forgiveness, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Post-Reynolds Pamphlet, Sad with a Happy Ending, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Slow Build, Suicidal Thoughts, later there will possibly be a sex scene
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22955014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Eliza's forgiven him, but that doesn't mean things are fine now.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler
Comments: 7
Kudos: 62





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Self-harm, Suicidal thoughts, Eating Disorders, and maybe a sex scene later
> 
> If you're not comfortable with that then please don't read this.
> 
> Anyways time for angst

She'd forgiven him.

It had taken months of begging and trying his best to prove himself, but she did.

The night she forgave him, he was allowed to sleep in their room.

But it didn't feel anything like before. Eliza slept like she always did, in the middle of her side of the bed. Alex lay on his side, on the very edge. He was scared to go any closer, scared that any minute Eliza would turn around and kick him back out.

It almost didn't seem real to him, how she could just forgive him like that. He felt undeserving, almost like she was only doing it because he wanted it.

It just didn't feel right.

But nothing felt right these days.

Alexander didn't fall asleep, he just lay worrying about everything. He wasn't new to this at all. 

__________

Eliza wakes up. 

She sees him, still awake, laying down, looking at the ceiling. 

She knows he didn't sleep. She can always tell.

But she asks anyway.

"Did you sleep?" 

There's a pause. Eliza knows what he's going to say.

"Yeah." he lies, his voice raspy and weak.

She knew it all at this point. He lies about sleeping so she doesn't worry. 

She says nothing. 

Eliza props herself up against the pillows. She doesn't feel like getting up; she never did lately. She only left the house when Alex suggested they go on a walk. She thought he would want to, but he had no desire to today.

She looks back over at him.

"You look like you're going to fall off the bed." she says.

Alexander doesn't know how to respond, so he shifts slightly, only a little.

"You can come closer." she says.

She tries to make it seem like she doesn't care, she doesn't need him to.

But she knows she does.

Alex sheepishly moves, shortening the dreadful gap between them, but not daring to close it. He was scared. 

Their day is spent in bed, Eliza drifting in and out of sleep. Alexander stares blankly at the wall, trying his best to forget, to be blissfully unaware of what was going on. Eliza leaves to eat, something Alex hadn't bothered to do for a while. His stomach protests, but he can't bring himself to eat a proper meal.

He doesn't feel like he can. 

He doesn't feel like he deserves it.

Alex gets up in the evening, walking into his office. Piles of letters sat on his desk. A letter from Nathaniel Pendleton, one from Aaron Burr, even once from a concerned Thomas Jefferson. That was all he cared to look through. He guessed they all said the same thing. 

"Sorry for your loss."

Alexander feels a flood of rage fill his body. Of course they were sorry. Sorry doesn't matter. Sorry won't help.

Sorry doesn't bring Philip back. 

He throws the letters on the floor, hot tears of rage streaming down his face. He throws Jefferson's letter in the fireplace. He looked at the mess, breathing heavily. 

He looks to the side in guilt.

They were trying to be nice, he thought.

He falls to the ground in shame, his own emotions a mess. He can't understand why he was so mad, he doesn't know why he was so horrible.

He curls up in a ball on the floor, trying again to forget. Maybe if he tried hard enough, it wouldn't be real. Everyone would be happy. Philip would be back. Alex wouldn't have done all those horrible things to Eliza.

The wood is cold and hard, and it felt horrible. It was all horrible.

It was too much for him, he felt overwhelmed. He was losing his grip on the world, slipping away again. Nothing felt real or right, it was just a blur.

The world went dark, he couldn't see anything, didn't want to see anything.  
Then it all stopped.

__________

He wakes up back on their bed. He doesn't know how he got there, but he did.

Eliza's watching him, concerned.

"You blacked out." she said.

"Oh." 

"Elenore found you on the ground in your office. She said she was going to clean but there were letters everywhere and you were just laying there. What happened?" 

"I don't know anymore." he said softly.


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: bulimia

2 weeks later-

It's night again, the absence of light seems to amplify the forlorn mood in their room. The two lay together, a bit closer than usual. The wind picked up outside, a storm brewing.

The wind stops for a minute, then a downpour rattled the walls of their house. Alex flinched, grabbing on to Eliza's arm quickly, then releasing it in fear.

Eliza rolled over, facing Alex. She saw the fear in his face. She knew it all too well. He was scared of storms, and Eliza would hold him while it poured. 

She took him into her arms, cradling him, as she always had before. His face was buried in her chest, his body shaking and trembling. He was scared a lot, always turning to Eliza for validation and comfort. It was nothing like her mother had taught her about how women were supposed to act towards their husbands. It almost seemed like Eliza was the man, the head of the household and Alex was the woman, obeying Eliza's orders.

She placed a kiss to the top of his head.

Things seemed to be falling back into place.

________

Alex lay on the floor of the bathroom.

He felt sick. Not in a medical way.

Sick with himself.

Eliza had practically forced him to eat dinner. Every bite was awful, not in taste, but in emotion. 

He didn't think he should've eaten, he didn't think he deserved to eat. Now he lays on the floor. He didn't even have enough energy to cry. He just lay, staring at the wall.

He gets an idea when he rolls to the side. If he could forcibly remove the food from his system, it would be like not eating. 

He removed his coat as to not get it dirty, which seemed dumb, considering he hadn't changed for days now. He just didn't have the time to.

He bent over the toilet. He shoved a finger down his throat.

He gagged, but didn't throw up.

Alexander used two fingers the next time, shoving them a little harder. 

His back fell forward and he vomited. His hair and chin was covered in the mess, and his throat burned from stomach acid.

It hadn't made him happy, but it satisfied him. He felt a bit less guilty about eating, felt like he could rest a bit easier.

It was supposed to be his punishment, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the short chapter, I just wanted to get two out today


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: more bulimia
> 
> might as well rename this "depressed founding father with bulimia: the fanfiction"

Eliza notices that Alex starts joining them for dinner. While he doesn't eat much and doesn't talk, it's still progress.

At least she thinks it is.

_________

It had been a while since he died. Maybe a few months, neither could tell, or even cared to count. 

Eliza was getting better. At first she was devastated, never leaving her room. But maybe it was something about how she felt more in control, how she set the pace with Alex. 

Still, she didn't know what they were. She had forgiven him, but he was slipping away from her and everyone else. He seemed to be doing worse as time went on.

She'd noticed that his figure had become smaller. She blamed that on him not eating as much. 

_________

Alexander couldn't stop.

It became an obsession. Every time after he ate, he'd make himself vomit. Sometimes he hadn't even eaten. He just wanted it out of his system.

In his mind, in his sick, twisted perception of the world, he didn't deserve to eat. In his mind, he'd killed Philip. 

But he hadn't, he'd told Philip not to go to the duel. He couldn't talk Philip out of it, so he advised him to raise his gun. And Philip followed his instructions, but still got shot.

He examined the gun Philip had used. It was the same gun that Angelica's husband had used to duel Burr once.

None of that mattered to him anymore.

Nothing really did these days.

_________

"You've gotten smaller." 

Alex turned around, locking eyes with Eliza. He felt uncomfortable under her look, like she could see through his soul. 

"Oh." 

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Yeah." 

"Alex," she started, pausing to lay comfortably on the bed. "I know you're not." 

He didn't say anything.

"Come up here." she said, concern in her voice.

He did as she told him, climbing up the bed to lay with her.

"I thought you might have gotten better by now. It's been a while. Something's bothering you and I need you to tell me what it is." 

He doesn't want to tell her. He's scared she would be concerned about him. He didn't deserve Eliza's pity in his own mind, no matter how much he wanted it.

"Please? For me." 

Alex sighed. She knew that line always got him.

"I'm sorry." he says quietly.

"Keep going." 

"I'm sorry I made you go through all of this." 

Eliza looks to the side.

"I feel awful for it, it's all my fault, and now you have to suffer..." 

"Alex, this isn't your fault-"

"I deserve to die." 

Eliza's eyes well up with tears and it makes Alex feel even worse, the sick part of his mind feeding on all his misery.

"No, please, please don't cry, I'm so sorry- I'm so sorry, Eliza..."

A tear rolls down her cheek and he desperately brushes it away. Eliza had always been there for him when he was upset. She stayed calm and collected even through the worst of his breakdowns and panic attacks. 

But Alex couldn't stand seeing Eliza cry. It felt horrible, even if it wasn't his fault.

Eliza composed herself, looking to Alex. He looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"Please don't kill yourself, Alex. I don't think I could take it." she said, cupping his cheek.

Alex shivered, feeling her hand on his skin. 

"I won't." 

Eliza leaned closer to him. Color rose to Alex's cheeks as she pulled him closer. Their foreheads pressed together and Alex grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers. They're pressing into each other, wanting no space between them. The time they spent separated by a wall of anger now meant nothing, all they wanted was to stay like that for hours. Alex feels a few tears escaping his eyes, but Eliza brushes them away with a smile.

And for the moment, both of them feel content and almost happy.

It's been a while since either felt like that.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex makes things worse but honestly when does he not
> 
> sorry if it's short I may or may not have forgotten about this fic
> 
> so uhh yeah stay safe y'all
> 
> (I'm just realizing how my writing style sounds professional but how I casually type sounds chaotic)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self-Harm warning
> 
> unfortunately I write from experience, please don't ever cut yourself, it doesn't help your problems, it just makes them worse.

Eliza had wanted to spend time with him.  
She asked, if he'd like to visit Philip's grave with her. The fact that she wanted to spend time with him was enough, enough to make it seem like life was worth it.

The two sat in the grass by Philip's grave. Eliza placed two white flowers next to the grave marker. She looked at the flowers with a sad smile. It was unusually gloomy as of lately, it rarely rained, but it was always threatening to.

Alexander looked back at the grave for a few moments, a strange look on his face. Then he looked to Eliza and followed her out.

________

He felt guilty. It wasn't new.

But he had promised Eliza.

Promised her, before all of this mess, that he wouldn't hurt himself anymore. He remembers the look on her face, seeing his arm all cut up. And it's not something he likes to remember. 

He stares down at his arm with disapointment.  
He had told Eliza he'd stop.

Promised her.

But he was overwhelmed, overcome with emotions he couldn't understand. He felt guilty for so many things, for the affair, for hurting himself, for Philip's death, for being horrible and cruel. It wasn't fair.

It was almost some kind of sick joke on him. It was bad enough with Philip gone, but seeing the effects on his family, the people who he loved more than anything at all suffer made him feel awful. He wished it was like before Philip had died, how it was just him alone who had to deal with it.

Cutting had felt like an escape, like a relief from everything happening. He drowned the emotional pain with the physical pain. The blood trickling down his arm and ruining his dress shirt felt right, like what he deserved.

But as soon as he was done, and he put the razor away, everything came back, worse than before.

__________

"Alex." Hearing his own name called broke him from his trance.

"Have you eaten?" he heard Eliza ask.

"Yes," he lied. "I ate not that long ago."

There is a silence, but he can tell Eliza's still in his office. He feels his ears and cheeks redden, and slight raises his shoulders in shame. He knew that she was aware that he was lying.

"Please eat something." 

Alex was relieved she didn't scold him for not eating. But he still didn't feel like eating.

"I'm not hungry." 

"You always say that. You need to eat something. You'll die if you don't." 

"I'll eat later." Another lie.

Eliza sighed and crossed her arms.

"You say that, then you won't eat."

"I will, later." A third lie.

"No, Alexander. That's not an option. You've lost so much weight, and not in a good way. You look like a skeleton. I'm not trying to bother you. I'm only trying to keep you alive." 

He's silent, he doesn't know how to reply.

He complies, agreeing to join everyone for dinner only to make Eliza happy. He stands up slowly and turns to her. She grabs his arm and starts to pull him towards the dining room.  
But she picked the wrong arm.

Alex yelped in pain and Eliza stopped, looking at him confused.

"Wh-"

She stops, noticing the blood on his sleeve and how Alex cradled his arm.

"No..." she whispers.

"It's not what it looks like, I-"

"No." 

Eliza backs away and runs to her room.

Alexander can only stand there, staring at the office door for what feels like hours. He then slams the office door, and slides down to sit on the floor. Before he knows, tears are streaming down his face. He'd ruined it. Again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on new chapters, I've got ideas but writing is difficult, anyways yep I don't know
> 
> I'm listening to falsettos while writing this and whizzer did an oopsie so it's very s a d


End file.
